Flag, Meet Mockingjay. Mockingjay, Meet Flag.

At TID HQ, we make an effort to keep up with the latest in YA Lit (latest in fashion - not so much). So, when Liz read The Hunger Games trilogy over Thanksgiving, it was only a matter of time until Cailey jumped on the dystopian bandwagon. Why did it take us so long to delve into this wonderful world Suzanne Collins created? We don't even know! All we do know is that we devoured these books like they were sent to us in silver parachutes after days in the arena without food. And, as suckers for kick-ass female characters, we love Katniss in all her badass archery skill-rocking and conflicted emotion-repressing glory. We do, however, remain divided when it comes to Team Peeta vs. Team Gale. 

Happy 252nd Birthday Robert Burns

A very happy Burns Nicht to all Scots and non-Scots around the world from us here at Tear It Down. 

Have a glass o' whiskey, say a toast to the lads and a toast to the lassies, make sure you've no mouse in the house, intone the Selkirk Grace...

Some hae meat and canna eat, 

And some wad eat that want it; 

But we hae meat, and we can eat, 

And sae let the Lord be thankit.

 ...And celebrate the life of the greatest Scottish poet in history.

Sláinte

State of the Flag: A President Obama TID Exclusive

In honor of President Obama's second State of the Union address - and his general badass-itude - we decided it was high time for a (long overdue) Obama TID. How did we let this one slide for such a long time? Unlike many Americans, we never lost hope in our president - but, like many Americans, we were apparently complacent in not vocalizing our undiluted and enduring admiration for the leader of the free world. 

The Unsung Cat Man, Part II

It's no secret: at TID, we love men who love cats. True, we've celebrated such glorious specimens of manhood before, but why stop there? There are so many more males whose great contributions to the world of ailurophilia have yet to be praised. So without further ado, we present to you the second installment of The Unsung Cat Man!

An Open Letter to Santa

Dear Santa Claus,

We realize our absence from the blogosphere might have bumped us over to the naughty list, but we want you to know that we fully intend to be Good Little Bloggers™ next year in hopes that you will bring us everything on our Christmas list.

Now you might well say, "Ho, ho, ho young Liz and Cailey...what is it you could possibly yearn for? What could you want that you don't already have?"

We don't ask for unicorns, or as-yet-unreleased Apple gadgets, or even private audiences with certain sparklevamps dressed as St. Nick. If you're reading this, you will have noticed by now that our tastes run more to the....eclectic.

Without further ado, we present Cailey and Liz's Funtimes Christmas List:

The Great Muppet Flag Caper!

We aren't the happiest of froggies this evening after yesterday's midterm election. Sure, we knew it was coming, but that doesn't stop us from being disappointed and a little apprehensive.

Well, at least here in California we can take the edge off with some newly legal "herbs"...

...oh wait...

...we can't...

...crap...

Next best thing? MUPPETS!! 

Happy Election Day, America!

Now, go out there and vote! Please! Do it!

And once you've voted (huzzah!), go find some hapless, exhausted-looking young thing chugging a red bull, holding a clipboard, picking ramen noodles out of their hair and say:

"Let's go GOTMFV!"*

Democracy is a beautiful thing, isn't it? 





*Get Out The Mother Effin' Vote

A Vindication of the Right of Women…to Objectify Men*

A month or so ago, Liz, being – as always – hip to important pop culture happenings, told me that I should purchase Katy Perry’s newest single, “Peacock.”  

“Peacock?” I repeated, by way of confirmation.  

“Peacock,” she answered, not willing to divulge anything more.  

Now, I was not so foolish and/or innocent as to completely miss the innuendo of the title. I didn’t expect a zoologically-detailed musical celebration of the medium-sized male pheasant with jewel-toned plumage.  

Teatime...For Angle...And Germany! Winter For Poland and France!

Weirded out and rendered vaguely ill by that post heading? Fear not...we're just quoting/butchering Mel Brooks and The Producers...

And no, we're totally not suggesting that Nevada's own Sharron Angle is anything like Hitler. We'll shy away from the old Ad Hitlerum (AKA intelligent conversation kryptonite) malarkey at all costs. BUT...as what we've got going on in America right now is...well, how should we put this? A situation where people who are in favor of policies that really never push society forward (Have your rapist's baby and love him/her no matter what! Pay for that rabies shot with a chicken from your coop! Send all farm workers back from whence they came and live off nothing but fast food! Screw your anti-obesity initiatives First Lady Michelle Obama, vegetables are SOCIALIST!) We felt the need to put some of America's favorite tea partiers in our Sound of Music, flag tearing blender...just to see what will happen...

Happy Birthday Dame Julie!

Not only is it the start of October (when did that happen?!), but it is also - and more importantly - the birthday of one Julia Elizabeth Andrews, aka a lady who will never be a nun, aka MARIA VON TRAPP!

Julie, all we can say is: somewhere in our youth - or childhood - we must have done something good to deserve you in our lives (via the television, that is).

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

Love,

Liz and Cailey

F**k You, Colin Firth

Dear Colin Firth,  

Fair enough - you have the right to look perplexed. And I hope you won't take too much offense, as you seem like a perfectly nice person. You’ve been married to your Italian wife for a long time and you have two cute kids (plus that one you had earlier with the lesser Tilly sister) and seem pretty low key. Plus you’re self-deprecating in that fabulous British way. But still, I have to say: Fuck You.

Do Bad Things: Vol. 2

 

Previously on Do Bad Things: Sam had just encountered a Nazi flag hanging outside Merlotte's...Terry and Lafayette reacted with PTSD and ennui, respectively...Jason vomited (but not because of the flag...because of the A-A-A-A-A-Alcohol)...and Bill had just made a motion to tear it down, when he was distracted by the arrival of Eric. As were Liz and Cailey...

Cailey: But now we're back! And I shall not allow myself to become distracted by that tall drink of water, that Norse god descended to earth, that...Liz what is happening in that photoshop project (above)?!

Liz: You likey?

Cailey: I'm simultaneously repulsed and aroused.

Liz: Mission accomplished!

Do Bad Things: Vol. 1

                                         

Honestly, what did we do before True Blood came along? 

We here at TID are well-versed in all entertainment vampire-related (see here, here and here for stone cold proof). Yet this show is clearly in a category all it's own. Yes, we'll always be hopelessly devoted to Buffy, Angel, and the Whedonverse, but - dare we say it? - not even the Almighty Joss could have brought to life a show so shamelessly, wantonly sexy and so out-of-it's-cotton-pickin'-mind (Talbot's glass urn? zomg. Marianne's meat statue? zomg. Lafayette and Jesus's crazy trip drug dream? zomg. "You need to bless the Jell-O so everyone can eat?" zomg. You get the picture.)

Dick: An Apologia

There are plenty of less-than-stellar contributions to contemporary culture that I get a lot of joy from and whose lowbrow qualities I will defend to my more effete friends. But I know how far to take my waxing lyrical about the (yes, I will admit it) debatable merits of, say, Twilight and “Keeping Up With the Kardashians.” Then there are those few precious contributions that I truly believe merit inclusion in the pantheon of culturally important artifacts. The ones that I would take an pseudo-intellectual bullet for, like Clueless and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the TV series, not the movie). And then there’s Dick. 

Oh C-Anne-ada!

Full disclosure: I was a total book dork as a child (and dork-dork, but that's another story...). I was known for my ability to read for hours at a time,  completely unaware of people coming, going, asking me questions, holding a gun to my head, etc. If I could bottle that level of focused joy and sell it, I'd put Adderall out of business. 

But this is not some Wordsworthian lament for lost youthful exuberance. I'm just here to marvel that, despite my years of avid, geeky reading, I somehow missed out on the JOY that is Anne of Green Gables. According to my mother, I was a particularly stubborn child - although I remember being nothing but a delight - and at some point in my wayward youth I got it into my head that I did not want to read the books or watch the miniseries and successfully avoided them for well over the next decade. 

This Just In...

As responsible webmistresses, we like to see how folks are meandering the interwebs and ending up on our humble blog. Well, interestingly, it turns out we're NOT the only ones who want to see "Richard Engel Shirtless" because people are Googling said phrase right and left and being directed to us. Unfortunately, we have no shirtless pics of Engel to share (sorry to disappoint), but we can offer you this excerpt from his book A Fist In the Hornet's Nest:

"I wanted to be ready at a moment's notice, which also made sleeping something of an issue. I don't generally sleep with any clothing on, which could potentially have led to somewhat awkward circumstances if the hotel caught fire, was stormed by fedayeen or if bepistoled intelligence agents burst into my room in the dead of night. I envisioned myself standing outside the Palestine Hotel naked as a fish, a bed sheet wrapped around me like a swami, redfaced in front of the other reporters. It wouldn't have looked very professional." 

People Of The Internet, you're welcome. 

Richard, we TOTALLY get that you're an über-responsible correspondent who would never post such a salacious picture of yourself. But keep in mind, it's not really that taboo anymore. After all, remember this picture...

Yeah. New World, New Rules. FTW.

We Wish You Were Right, But Goshdarnit! You're Wrong: Baroness Elsa Schraeder Edition

Welcome readers, to the inaugural post in what may or may not become a regular series on this fair blog: We Wish You Were Right, But Goshdarnit! You're Wrong. Our featured player this week is, appropriately, the Baroness Schraeder, a.k.a. Elsa, a.k.a. the apathetic, draped-in-pointless-luxury Austrian lady of leisure who was presumptuous enough to think she could get in between Maria and Captain von Trapp. Ha! As if, lady...

Even a stopped clock is, as we know, right twice a day, and the Baroness was on the money with: "Somewhere out there is a young lady who I think will never be a nun." Good call, Elsa. And hey, we'll even grant that maybe, just maybe, that strudel was entirely too delicious for your figure.

But we're here today to talk about some dangerous advice you've been doling out to impressionable young girls who might develop a bad "habit" (zomg punz, stop it...) because of you. 

Know what we're talking about, Elsa?...

Wasilla Is For Wankers

OK, boys and girls...

We, the gals of TID, have a confession to make: we've been languishing in our StephEnie Meyer-esque conflict-less comfort zone for a while now, bundling up cozily and basking in the warmth of heroes we love. Brave individuals who tear it down without a second of hesitation.  

But adulating idol worship, though awesome and necessary in certain situations, is not the main purpose of this blog. And we've failed you, dear readers. 

We exist to call out the cretins. The dunces. The wishy-washy. The fuckwits. The folks who, when staring straight at a Nazi flag flying from the rafters of their home/apartment/ranch/castle/chateau/estancia/hovel allow the monstrosity to fly. They do not tear down the flag and destroy it then and there...

Live From The Danger Zone

We're going to go ahead and call this TID less of philosophette exercise/game in what does or does not drive a man to take action against hate and hate-filled symbols and more of a thank you note/love letter...after all, asking if these two subjects - the incomparable Michael Ware and the stellar Richard Engel - would tear it down is like asking if Don Draper would care for a few midday fingers of Scotch...duh! 

For Your Clarification...

It recently came to our attention that a visual aid might be of assistance to some of our readers who haven't quite fully grasped the concept of the TID game. 

Does your face look like this...